


This way I get the best view

by withflouronmyhands



Series: Cressi Week 2k18 [3]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dorks in Love, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Kid Fic, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pining, cressiweek2k18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 21:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16167434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withflouronmyhands/pseuds/withflouronmyhands
Summary: In which Cristianinho is struggling with school work, and Cris is just trying to be a good father. Too bad there’s a hot guy who keeps on distracting him.





	This way I get the best view

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 2 of Cressi Week 2k18.

_There are many things that I_  
_Would like to say to you but I don't know how_

 

There’s a guy in the library Cris goes to. He’s not the only one, but he’s the one who seems to fry Cris’s brain whenever he enters the building, making his thoughts turn into an inarticulate mess. Cris knows nothing about him other than the name written on his tag and that he can’t stop thinking about him.

It’s ridiculous, because he’s not even Cris’s type. Not that he doesn’t have a thing for dark-haired people, but Lionel has weird ears, is incredibly short, and doesn’t seem to be any kind of fit or athletic. Nevertheless, there’s something about him that keeps on bothering him, making him just want to get up and go talk to him.

The Lionel Problem, as Cris decides to name it, wouldn’t worry him so much if it wasn’t for the fact that, if he wastes all his time on discreetly following Lionel around with his eyes, Cris would never properly do what he had come to the library to do.

It hadn’t been his idea to start frequenting a library. He had just finished the yoga class with Gio and was complaining about how he could no longer help Cristianinho with his school work whenever the boy came to him for help. It frustrated him to a worrying degree, how he couldn’t be there for his son in such an integral part of his life, making him feel like a bit of failure.

“Why don’t you try to learn, then?” she had suggested as they exited the gym and began walking in Madrid’s busy streets. “I can help him with Spanish and English and History, even, but I can’t help you with the sciences.”

“It’s just…” Cris sighed, feeling slightly irritated with the whole ordeal. “I haven’t picked up a school book in years. What if I can’t do it?”

Gio smiled at him, kind and reassuring, and laced her arm with his. She has never mocked him when he doubts himself, and Cris loves her infinitely for that. “Start with the basics. Get a few books, sit down, and try to remember the basics. It’s not like Cris is super advanced yet, and you’re nothing but determined.” She kissed his arm. “I’m sure you’ll caught up with him in no time.”

So that’s how he found himself, at six pm on a Thursday afternoon, surrounded by books on an empty corner of one of Madrid’s public libraries. He had been building the habit of going there every Tuesday and Thursday while Cristianinho was in practice, only going with Gio to the gym on Fridays now.

His head was swimming with numbers and the mathematical symbols of third grade Maths. He felt ridiculous in not being able to grasp what he knew were simple concepts, some that he probably already knew. He knew he had never been the sharpest crayon in the box when it came to something non-athletic, and the fact that he had dropped off early wasn’t helping him now, but he wasn’t dumb either. What kind of a father would he be if he couldn’t help his _third grader_?

It probably would help not being so distracted by Lionel’s ass. The pants he was wearing today were tighter than usual, accentuating what Cris now realized was nice ass, round and plum. Just a few moments ago, the guy had bent down to put a book back on its shelf, giving Cris an amazing view, and leaving him half-hard under the table.

He honestly didn’t know what was more pathetic, the fact that he was struggling with third grade math, or the fact the he had gotten half-hard just by looking at somebody’s ass.

Around seven o’clock, not feeling like he had made much progress, but knowing that he had to go pick up Cristianinho, Cris closed the books and arranged them in a pile, leaving them in the corner for the librarians to pick up. He nodded to the security guard as he left the building. He would be back Tuesday for more of the same, but right now he was on for a night with his son. 

* * *

Cris felt a bit humiliated when, a couple of weeks later, surrounded by university students who couldn’t care less about his presence, he found himself grabbing the book entitled “Basic Maths for Dummies”. He was getting desperate and, for one of the only times in his life, felt like simply giving up and go find a tutor for Cristianinho. It would be quite a hit on his wallet, but he had promised himself when he first decided he would have a son that he would give him anything he could possibly need, and that included making sure he had the resources to do good in school.

As promised, Gio landed a hand anytime Cristianinho struggled with Spanish, but Cris was still left with managing to understand and memorize the properties of addition and multiplication. He was in the middle of a basic exercise about multiplication tables, which Cris was proud to say he had finally started to memorize—after he decided to sacrifice an hour of sleep every night to sit on the kitchen table and practice—when a hand knocked on the table and Cris looked up to find Lionel’s eyes piercing into his forehead.

“Yes?” Cris asked. He was annoyed at being interrupted, but his body didn’t seem to care much about it if the way his heart had started beating was anything to go by.

“I just…” Lionel cleared his throat. Cris had gathered that he was rather shy, by the way he avoided everyone’s glances and because he only ever interacted with the same three members of the staff. “It’s just- You’ve been coming for awhile and I’ve noticed what kind of books you pick up, so I was wondering…” Lionel took a breath and moved his eyes back to Cris. “Do you need any help?”

Cris blinked, surprised. For all the times he had thought about how to help Cristianinho, about how to ensure he had all the opportunities he deserved, he’d never thought about asking for help for himself.

“I would hate to bother you,” Cris answers, feeling a slight blush creeping on his cheeks. He hates asking for help, especially from people he doesn’t know.

“You wouldn’t,” Lionel assures, seeming more certain of himself. He’s even more adorable up close. Now, Cris can notice the hints of stubble on his cheeks. “And you really do look like you could use some help.” Lionel seems to want to say something more, but closes his mouth. “I technically get off early on Thursday. How about we meet in the coffee shop down the street?”

Cris wants to accept, both because Lionel is probably a lot more knowledgeable than he is, and because that would meant spending some time with Lionel, actually talking to him instead of just ogling him from afar. “I can’t accept, not without giving you something in return.”

Lionel seemed a bit exasperated with his answer. “I’m offering to help, I’m not trying to make a deal with you…” He sends Cris a questioning look, and Cris quickly answers, “Cristiano.” Leo nods. “As I said, I’m not trying to make a deal with you, Cristiano. But…” He looks to the side for a moment. “If you feel like you need to pay me, pay me in coffee.” He doesn’t wait for an answer before readjusting the books on his arms and starting to turn away. “I’ll see you Thursday at a quarter past six.”

* * *

Cris arrives at the coffee shop, a small space filled with wood tables and comfortable looking chairs, at ten past six. He gets in line to order a tea, deciding that he’ll get a coffee for Lionel and figure out what he likes so he can get it right next time, but he hasn’t made it to the front of the line when Lionel comes in. Lionel smiles, a small, reserved thing, but Cris’s heart inflates.

Lionel orders a cappuccino and goes to find a table while Cris waits for their drinks. He brought a few books with him, though Cris can’t see their covers.

He’s nervous when Lionel takes a sheet of exercises and puts it in front of him, handing him a pencil after, but Lionel doesn’t ask him to solve it. Instead, he starts explaining third year Maths like it’s the simplest thing the world, guiding Cris through the exercises with calm and patience.

Lionel had seemed shy every time Cris had seen at the library, but now Cris understands that he’s just introverted, if not a bit awkward. Lionel doesn’t smile much, and neither his voice nor his face convey much emotion. Still, Cris can understands that Lionel doesn’t seem bothered to be spending time with him (he hopes so, at least).

At some point during the lecture, Cris gets up to get a bottle of water for him and a coffee for Lionel, and then watches in horror as Lionel drowns the liquid with sugar. Cris has a comment about diabetes in the tip of his tongue, but manages to hold it in.

At seven, when Cris announces that he has to leave, Lionel comes with him. “Where are you going to?” Cris asks, when they start walking in the same direction.

“The subway,” Lionel answers. He frowns a little, an almost unnoticeable thing. “Do you mind if I ask why you’re going through all of this trouble?”

Cris sighs. He’s not ashamed of his son or of helping him, but he’s a little ashamed of needing help himself. “It’s because of my son.” He steels a look at Lionel. “He sometimes comes to me for help with his homework, and I want to be able to help him. My friend, Gio, helps him with Spanish, which is a relief because, though I speak Spanish, I’m nowhere near qualified to explain it. But I still want to be able to help him with the rest.”

“He’s in the third grade, right?” Lionel wonders aloud. Cris sends him a questioning look. “I’m the one who usually puts your books away. Most of them are third grade school books.”

“Yes, he’s in the third grade,” Cris confirms with a nod.

They make the rest of the way to the station, a short three minute walk in silence. When they go to say goodbye, Cris hesitates. He wants to lean down and kiss Lionel on the cheek, but he knows that would be too intimate. Lionel, on the other hand, turns to him as he puts his hands on his pockets. “Same time next week?” he asks.

“If you don’t mind,” Cris says, because though Lionel seemed to enjoy himself, he didn’t want to take up the man’s time.

Lionel smiles a bit. “Then I’ll see you next week.” He turns to take the stairs, but Cris stops him before he can take a step.

“Wait,” he says, as Lionel turns around. “I wanted to thank you for helping me with this, Lionel.”

Lionel scrunches his nose at the words. “I forget I never gave you my name.”

“Isn’t it Lionel?”

“It is,” he confirms. “But everyone calls me Leo.”

“Leo, then.” Cris smiles. “Thank you.”

He watches Lionel- Leo make his way down the stairs, and only starts to make his way to the car when he’s vanished from sight.

* * *

October turns into November which in turn turns into December. The days start getting cold and rainy, but Cris still meets with Leo every Thursday. With Leo’s help, Cris is learning a lot quicker, so much that he can stop going to bed late. He still goes to the library on Tuesday’s, and Leo always gives him a small smile even though they never share anything more than a quick “How are you?” The tutoring seems to be working too: just last week, Cristianinho came to him for help with his homework, which Cris could more or less provide. They didn’t get everything right—Cristianinho showed him the revised sheet, with a large 9/15 in green on the corner—but he loved that now he didn’t have to send Cristianinho away with an apology anymore.

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason why he was glad none of them had given up their arrangement. As the weeks go by, Cris starts to love the time he spends with Leo. Every time they see each other, Leo seems to be more and more relaxed, slowly opening up to him, telling him that he grew up in Argentina and about his family. Cris loves the soft, low rumble of his voice, which later keeps him up at night as he lies in bed, jerking of to the fantasy of Leo whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

One of the downsides of the cold weather is that Leo starts to drown in clothes, coming up with a new layer every week. Cris knows he’s not the most sensitive to the cold, usually feeling comfortable with an extra thick sweatshirt and a rain coat, but he thinks Leo’s resistance to the cold—or lack thereof— is ridiculous.

He’s still charming in Cris’s eyes, though.

Gio thinks his crush is both a bit pathetic and adorable. “Why don’t you just tell him?” she asks. She carefully gets him off of her and lays beside him. She’s still breathing heavily, slowly coming down from her second orgasm of the night, but she doesn’t seem particularly tired. In fact, if anything, she seems amused. _She’s mocking you_ , Cris’s brain supplies.

“I don’t want to scare him of.” Cris shudders, taking of the condom. “For all I know, he can have a girlfriend back in Argentina, or he might not even fancy guys.” He turns on his side so he can look at her. “And I really need his help,” he adds.

Gio offers him a kind, understanding smile, and moves she can get an arm around his waist. She’ll be leaving in half an hour, around the time Cristianinho arrives home after spending the afternoon at one of his friends’ house, but, for now, they have time. They’re both quite cuddly after sex and like to enjoy each other’s company.

“It’s just… By the way you talk, he seems like a really nice guy. I don’t want to see you throw away what looks like a good opportunity. And aren’t you the one always saying that you could get anyone you wanted?”

Cris ignores her teasing, but her words about how a relationship with Leo could be something good keeps nagging him, staying in his head even after Gio’s gone.

They’re still on his mind a couple of days later, when he and Gio go out to buy Cristianinho’s Christmas gifts. It’s already the middle of December, and Madrid’s incredibly busy in that time of the year, even with the rain and the wet streets. Cris loves it. He loves to look at the Christmas decorated stores, at the lights, at the children smiling in delight. Most of all, though, he loves how big Madrid looks, how much different from Madeira it is.

He’s walking down the street, arm linked with Gio’s, when he almost bumps into Leo, who is exiting a chocolate store.

“Cris!” Leo greets, voice cheery. He’s dressed in a multitude of shirts and coats, and his cheeks have a pink tinge from the cold.

“Hey!” Cris smiles, already expecting it when his heart starts beating a bit too fast. “Didn’t expect to see you around. Don’t you have a flight to catch?” Leo had mentioned on Thursday that he wouldn’t be able to make it until January, since he was visiting his family for the festivities.

“I’m flying to Barcelona tomorrow, and to Argentina on Wednesday,” Leo informs him. He looks sideways at Gio, looking simultaneously comfortable and wary. It’s a weird combination, but it suits him (though Cris’s biased to say so, since in his eyes everything suits Leo, even the awful orange sweatshirt he sometimes wears).

“This is Georgina,” he introduces. “Gio, this is Leo.” Gio smiles at Leo and moves forward to greet him with a kiss on each cheek, something that he returns after a slight hesitation.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, curt, the way he usually is around people he doesn’t know. Gio doesn’t seem to mind, only smiling in return.

An awkward silence settles between them, no one really sure of what to say.

“Well, I have to get going. I still have to pack,” Leo says, in means of an explanation.

“Of course,” Cristiano says. He hesitates for a moment, debating mentally if he should do what he’s wanted to do since day one, but has always held back. Gio’s warm presence by his side and the way she tightens his arm must serve as incentive, though. Cris leans down and kisses Leo’s cheek. He feels the warmth and the softness of the skin for a moment before pulling away, just in time to watch the pinkness on his cheeks turn red. “Have a safe flight.”

“Thank you,” Leo says, voice sounding a bit rough, “and Merry Christmas. To you too,” he adds as an afterthought, glancing at Gio, who only smiles and returns it.

“Merry Christmas, Leo,” Cris says, overwhelmed with glee and feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

Cris watches him walk down the street until he can no longer tell him apart from everyone else.

Gio doesn’t comment, but she’s smiling like she knows all the secrets of the universe.

* * *

Cris’s still full-on pining on Leo by the time he returns, and has figured that he’s going to spend his life doomed to be longing for Leo.

He doesn’t mind it too much, though. Being enamored makes him feel lighter, happier than he’s felt in years, excited for something that he’s not too sure if it’s going to happen.

His Thursday afternoons with Leo had turned into something he spends the whole week looking forward to. Leo still helps him and goes over some exercises with him, but now they spend just as much time talking about themselves, sharing stories.

“I wasn’t planning on coming to Madrid,” Leo reveals one day. It’s almost seven, which means they’re time is almost over, and they’re enjoying the rest of their coffees.

“What happened?” Cris asks, because he knows Leo doesn’t usually bring up subjects he doesn’t want to talk about.

“I’ve told you I had moved to Barcelona a few years ago,” Leo reminds him, “and I planned on staying there. It’s a beautiful city and I love it there. But then, the internship at the library came up, and it was a great opportunity. It’s the kind of thing that is good to have on a CV.”

Cris hadn’t known how many work went into becoming a librarian until Leo had explained it to him, and he was kind of amazed that some people loved books so much that they would go through all of that trouble (Gio had laughed when he told her that, saying that he was kind of amazed at anything Leo).

Despite Cris’s feelings and their time spent together, though, there was no major change in their relationship until one evening in March. The winter was starting to go away, the day’s getting just slightly warmer though the rain still kept going strong, and Cristianinho was talking excitedly about his game on Saturday.

“Are you going to come, Gio?” Cristianinho asks once he’s finished talking about his team mates.

Gio takes a sip of wine before answering. “I’m sorry, darling, but I can’t.” She seems honestly sad about that, sharing a tiny smile with Cristianinho. “I have rehearsal.”

“Well, you know I’ll be there,” Cris says, trying to brighten Cristianinho’s mood.

“Why don’t you ask Leo if he’d like to come?” Gio wonders, mischievous.

“Who’s Leo?” Cristianinho asks.

“A friend of dad,” Cris says, sending Gio a warning look, begging her not to say anymore. She doesn’t seem interested in sharing any details, though. Cris goes over Gio’s idea, and figures he would really like to act on it. He would love to be able to introduce he’s son to Leo, and see if they got along (because if they didn’t, there would be no way Cris was even going to ponder dating Leo anymore). “Would you like for him to come?”

“Is he nice?” Cristianinho asks. “Does he like football?”

“He’s very nice,” Cris confirms. “And I think he likes football.” Surprisingly, they had never discussed it, but every time Cris had mentioned a game Leo had always seemed to know what he was talking about.

“Okay, then,” Cristianinho decides, always happy to have people in the stands rooting for him.

When he asks Leo if he would like to come the next day, Leo smiles cheerfully and agrees almost immediately. They arrange a time and a place for Cris to pick him up, and Cris asks Gio to take Cristianinho to the game in the morning. He’s usually the one to do it, dropping him of and then going out to have breakfast while they wait for the stands to open, but it’s a special occasion.

He picks Leo up at the arranged time on Saturday morning. They listen to the radio and talk a bit on the way, but Leo seems to still be half-asleep if the way he rests his head against the window and his eyes flutter close every now and then is anything to go by. Cris is sure he dozes of at some point, and can’t help but marvel at how endearing Leo is.

He’s very much awake, though, when they arrive on the field and Leo finally sees who we’ll be playing.

“You never told me your son plays for Real Madrid!” Leo complains, sounding a bit shocked.

“It never came up,” Cris shrugs.

But the shock has dissipated from Leo, giving place to a teasing look that Cris considers a major turn on. “Is now a good time to mention that I am a Barça fan?”

Cris almost bumps into the car in front of him in shock. “You’re not!” he refutes, sure that Leo is only pulling his leg.

Leo is laughing. “The face you just made was priceless,” he says, a bit breathless. “But I’m sorry if I can’t say I was just teasing you. I am a big Barça supporter.”

It was the first time since he met Leo that Cris actually stopped to consider his adoration for Leo. “I feel like such a fool.”

“Oh, don’t,” Leo says dismissively, putting a hand on his arm. “I feel like a bit of a betrayer by going to the game, but I’m even more excited to see your kid play now,” he says, and Cris cannot even imagine not falling for Leo when he says things like that. “What squad is he in?”

The talk about Cristianinho until they arrive. When the players come onto the field, it takes Leo less than a second to point out which one is his son. “He looks like you,” Leo says in means of an explanation.

Leo turns out to be really enthusiastic about the game, cheering loudly and excitedly for Cristianinho, not caring about which club he plays for at all. In the end of the game, when they go to pick up Cristianinho, Leo is generous with his compliments, telling Cristianinho how good his goals were. Cristianinho is absolutely smitten by Leo, talking excitedly on the ride back to Madrid and during their late lunch.

Cris spends most of his time quiet, happy in observing what his life could be like if he just found the guts to tell Leo the truth.

* * *

A week later, at Cristianinho’s request, he asks Leo if he would like to come to dinner. Leo seems a bit hesitant about it at first, but the moment Cris mentions Cristianinho, he smiles and agrees. Since then, Leo has become a rather frequent presence at his house, coming to dinner every two weeks.

As expected, Cris loves having him around. Leo is nothing but polite, always complementing him on the food, while also teasing him about being a health freak. After dinner, while Cris is cleaning up, he plays FIFA with Cristianinho. When the weather starts to warm up, they start to sometimes go to the small park down the street to play with the ball a little. Cris is surprised to realize Leo is rather good at it, making some beautiful tricks with the ball and then proceeding to teach them to Cristianinho. In contrast, Cris must make a fool of himself every time, too busy staring at Leo’s ass through the jeans, or at the sliver of skin of his hip that shows every time he raises his arms.

On one of these nights in mid-May, with Cristianinho walking ahead of them with the ball on his feet, he and Leo walk side by side, enjoying the chilly wind. At some point Leo gives a full body shiver a bit, even though he’s wearing a jacket, and Cris doesn’t even think before taking his Real Madrid hoodie and handing it to him.

“Here,” he offers. Leo blushes a bit when he sees the offer, but he takes it nonetheless.

“Not a word,” he mutters as he pulls on the hoodie, his words coming off muffled by the fabric. He swims in the garment, the white fabric reaching mid-thigh and the sleeves too long for him.

“Better?” Cris asks, trying not to sound as breathless as he feels. He never thought he’d be so turned on by seeing Leo wearing his clothes, and he wishes he could kiss him right now.

“Yeah. It’s warm. Thank you,” Leo smiles at him and pats his arm. “It smells nice too.” It’s Cris’s turn to blush, and he catches Leo teasing look for a moment before he looks to the ground.

They walk in silence for a moment, but it is interrupted by Leo clearing his throat. “Cristiano, can I ask you something?”

Cris frowns at the use of his birth name, but nods nonetheless. “Sure.”

Leo’s silence for a moment. When a few seconds pass and he still doesn’t say anything, Cris looks to the side to find Leo biting his lip, a doubtful look on his face. When he speaks, he says something Cris never expected to hear, “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” His eyes are focused on Cris’s and they have stopped walking. Cris’s heart misses a bit.

“What- What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” Leo says, and he’s blushing too, but he doesn’t take his eyes from Cris’s face, staring at him with determination. “No offence, but you’ve been giving me the bedroom eyes from day one. At first I thought they were for someone else, but then I offered to help you and you accepted, and you kept on looking at me like that every time you thought I wasn’t looking.”

“You knew?” Cris marvels, completely shocked. “All this time, you knew I had a thing for you? That’s why you offered to help?”

“Well, because of that and because you looked rather pathetic. Also, no asshole goes to the library twice a week to hunch over third grade school books.” Leo smiles, a little teasing, but there’s something underneath it that makes Cris’s heart race. “I was afraid I was reading you wrong when I saw you with Gio, but you never mentioned her as your girlfriend, so I figured I still stood a chance. And Cristianinho said that you’re just friends.” Leo takes one of his hands, holding it in his cold ones like it’s something precious. “So, why haven’t you?”

Cris’s voice feels a bit rough when he talks, “I wasn’t sure I stood a chance, and I didn’t want to scare you off.”

Leo smiles at him and opens his mouth to say something. He closes it a moment later and before Cris could realize what was happening, Leo was surging up and kissing him. Leo’s hands move to his shoulders so he doesn’t lose balance as he stands on the tip of his toes, but Cris doesn’t notice it, overwhelmed with the feeling of Leo’s lips against his. They’re a bit chapped, but Cris couldn’t imagine a better sensation. He puts one hand on Leo’s waist to help support him, the other moving to his face as they kiss passionately.

When Leo pulls away and gets back on his feet, they’re both breathing heavily. They’re hands stay where they were and Cris feels overwhelmed with emotion as strikes his cheek, looks into Leo’s eyes, and sees the happiness and contentment in them.

“Papá!” Cristianinho screams, interrupting their moment. Leo laughs softly as they pull apart, and laces their fingers when they stand side by side to look at Cristianinho, who runs to them with the ball under his arm. “Hurry! I’m cold.”

“Sorry, darling.” He pats Cristianinho on the head and waits patiently as he comes to stand on his free side and maneuvers Cris’s arm to his shoulders.

“Are you and papá boyfriends now?” Cristianinho asks once they start walking again. Cris chokes on the question, but Leo only smiles, seeming sure and carefree. He sends Cris a questioning look, and Cris can only nod in response.

“We are,” Leo confirms, looking over Cris at his son. “Do you mind it?”

Cristianinho responds an enthusiastic “no”, and starts talking about how Leo can start to come for dinner every day, but Cris tunes him out. He feels warm and content, and though he can’t stop thinking about all the opportunities he missed to tell Leo his feelings over the last few of months, he couldn’t be more grateful that Leo took his.

**Author's Note:**

> This probably is my favorite story for Cressi Week, so I really hope you enjoyed it as well. I think what I like most about this story is that it gave me the opportunity to write gente, adorable Cris, which is one of my favorite Cristianos.
> 
> I know library day was yesterday, but it fitted my story for day 2 better. For today I tried to include word, prompt and song.
> 
> Tilte from the song "When He Sees Me", from the musical Waitress.  
> Opening lines from today's song, "Wonderwall", by Oasis.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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